As soon as we got to Hubli I immediately felt a million miles away from the yoga hippies and organic muesli that I had been surrounded by in Mysore. We found a cab driver and arranged a lift to Mudhol. What we didn't realise was that our driver was a smack head and was completely out of his mind. We had about 7 near death experiences where he was playing chicken with 20 ton lorries coming towards us. He kept chewing on this thing called bethal which is also known as beetlenut that gives you a buzz and he had this crazy look in his eye and his teeth were red from chewing this stuff constantly. He dropped us off somewhere to get some food and sat in the corner rolling a massive blunt. Pierre went and played some cherades with him that basically translated to "please refrain from smoking that thing before you drive us you fucking pyscho". I think he got it, he just sat in the corner with his tail between his legs and drank some tea. Then he kept stopping at some near-by villages and kept us in the car while he went and bought more drugs. By the time we arrived in Mudhol I think I lost about 5 years of my life. Here are some photos of that journey. I wish I had taken a photo of our driver but I hated him so much at the time I wanted to forget his face.
1 comment:
Forget his face - it's a little bit funny that he had a tail though isn't it?
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